


Auctorita quod Obsequium

by kowaiyoukai



Category: Arthurian Mythology & Adaptations - All Media Types, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Class Differences, Class Issues, M/M, Non-Chronological, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-20
Updated: 2009-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kowaiyoukai/pseuds/kowaiyoukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What matters is the power he holds and the fact that no one is willing to challenge him for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auctorita quod Obsequium

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get a fic out before NBC airs Merlin so there is definitive proof that I was in the fandom before then. I get the feeling it might become a badge of honor, like "Oh, you saw Merlin on NBC? Yeah, I saw it before it aired in America." LOL, that's probably just my mind though. I have a few other Merlin fics in progress, hopefully they'll get finished soon. Finally, this idea came from a few fics I read where Arthur has problems with the power he holds as royalty, and I just really wanted to expand on that somewhat. Hopefully it worked!

19.

When people thought of Arthur Pendragon, they thought of an ideal. An illusion. A myth created out of stories, gossip told between servants, short glimpses of blond hair, a bark of laughter, one sharp furious shout, laws with complex loop-holes, a red cape and a shining sword, a torn cape and a bloodied sword—everything people knew of him, they had invented out of these small fragments. They respected him because they had to, in public, out loud, but in thought and private conversations everything changed. They sympathized with him because his mother had died, and so in their minds they imagined he was missing something. He would never explain to them that it was impossible to miss what had never been there. He was not partially empty, and if he was, it was not because of a mother he had never known. If he was empty at all, it was because he knew the respect and admiration people gave him were not genuine, and he also knew that he would never see their true feelings towards him because of his status.

When people thought of him, they were free to think what they liked. When they spoke to him, they were constrained by rules and regulations to act a certain way. Any deviance from that would be punished. If things were different, if Arthur could re-shape the world to his own liking, he would make it that everyone could speak their mind. He would allow people to shout at him, to throw things at him in anger, to bargain with him outrageously—just as he had seen them doing to each other time and again. He didn't want to be treated differently. If anything, he wanted to be treated with the exact same amount of disrespect he saw passed freely between commoners every day.

Ruling over them, but not being able to interact with them, was something Arthur could not complain about to anyone. He was royalty, the prince, the future king, and he knew his place. The fact that he wanted someone to talk to who was his equal, someone who was not afraid of Arthur's station or power, was his burden alone. When people thought of Arthur, he was certain they did not think that he merely wanted them to stand up to him, in any way they could.

 

32.

Having the worst manservant ever was actually a lot better than it sounded. Arthur knew he could count on Merlin to demand unreasonable actions from him, to shout at him when he was wrong, to give him conflicting opinions and advice, to ignore his orders when he was tired or simply didn't want to do them, and so on. He was the only manservant who had ever spoken back to Arthur, who had insulted Arthur to his face, who had genuinely worried for him during a tournament and cheered whole-heartedly at his victories. He was the only manservant who Arthur had bothered to learn anything about—his name, the foods he liked, his background, the way he walked, how his smile hid itself in the corner of his mouth before exploding onto his face.

In many ways, Merlin was not a manservant at all. He was a friend, and even that wasn't enough. A best friend, a confidante, an advisor, a comrade. Sometimes, at night, when Arthur let his imagination run wild, Merlin would appear, and then Arthur would be thankful for the first time of his appearance as Merlin traced a finger down his cheek and whispered words like _lovely_ and _stunning_ to him. That was as far as his mind got before it shut down, but it was enough.

 

7.

People dislike him. Complaints and rumors swirl around his everyday activities. Sometimes he believes he can hear them whispering if only he listens hard enough. Their list of his faults is endless. He is proud. He is cruel. He cares nothing for commoners. He will not listen to reason. He is driven by power.

Pride and cruelty are mixed together in his mind—a concoction born of lessons on behaving royal and what it means to be in control. There is no line there, no distinction between the two. He can either be proud and cruel or humble and kind. Any chance he had of achieving the latter was lost to him years before, and now the only way left is to stand with his shoulders high, stare directly into the eyes of anyone who challenges him, and amuse himself by bringing misfortune down on others. One word from him and a person can be sent to the stocks, to the dungeon, to the executioner's block. With only one word he has that kind of power.

It does not matter that he is disliked. He reminds himself of that, when people cower as he passes and servants avert their eyes as they bow. What matters is the power he holds and the fact that no one is willing to challenge him for it.

 

22.

The second time it happens seems like the first time to Arthur because he has no memory of the woman with the trembling lips and muddy clothes. This time, this new boy knows exactly what he's doing, even though he doesn't know what Arthur's position is. He rises to the bait Arthur gives him, which is so unexpected Arthur can barely hold back his happiness. Still, the boy is a weakling and therefore presents no real threat, and clearly he has no knowledge of who Arthur is, so when he's sent to the dungeon Arthur thinks that will be the end of it.

The third time, the boy knows Arthur is a prince and challenges him anyway. At first, Arthur thinks he won't. The boy—Merlin, he remembers, because it's important—walks by him without a glance and doesn't respond to Arthur's initial taunts. When the boy finally turns around, confronting him a second time with full knowledge of Arthur's position, Arthur's relief is so palpable he can barely keep it off his face. Then the boy accepts the challenge, pulling off his jacket in a way that shows he's serious and a bit idiotic, and Arthur can't restrain the joy that bursts out of him at this sudden, unexpected fulfillment of everything he's wanted for so long he can't remember not wanting it. A grin crosses his face and then he's laughing, head thrown back, and it's good that it comes across as mocking because otherwise he would have to explain this wholly new sensation.

He can't bring himself to punish the boy afterwards. As he walks away, he thinks he'll have to run into Merlin more often. He feels alive.

 

50.

Some people were born to be servants, and Merlin was not one of those men. Merlin constantly forgot to do certain chores, or simply didn't do them because he was bored or tired. He left jobs unfinished. He took too long to do some chores and others he were so good at that Arthur thought he must have gotten someone else to do them for him. Merlin spoke when he wanted to and didn't understand there were some actions that would get him in trouble. He had no power at all, but it didn't matter because he was able to do what he wanted when he wanted to.

That was a type of power in itself, something Arthur could never have. Every time he saw Merlin do something wrong at his job, he wondered if his servant knew just how lucky he was that he was allowed to make mistakes.

 

15.

When Arthur realizes the power he holds is not simply political, his world explodes. Politically, his father is in charge and Arthur must deal with that. This causes him little to no concern as he often acts like he is king regardless. However, this new power he discovers is subtle, but perhaps even stronger than his status.

He is gorgeous. This was apparent when a visiting noblewoman could not keep her eyes off of him, and even more so when her husband joined in. It becomes significantly more apparent as days pass and he begins to actually watch the effect he has on people when he stands too close to them, or accidentally bumps into them, or speaks to them while maintaining eye contact. They flush, stammer, move awkwardly away. Their eyes shine and they get a dreamy, far-away expression that causes Arthur to feel more than a little uncomfortable. Sometimes they stare back, move closer, and then Arthur reverts to glaring and they simper or look ashamed or simply apologize.

He has a strong feeling he should do something about this. What, he doesn't know. When he imagines doing anything physical, his mind is a blank. No one interests him in that way, there has been no one who stands out, and his mind can't even stay focused long enough to come to any kind of conclusion. Everyone is less than him. The idea of doing anything with someone so beneath his notice causes him to shudder, disgust overwhelming him and bile rising in his throat.

He knows one day he will have to marry. Those two words are enough to stop him from panicking—one day. A hypothetical day sometime in the future, a day not marked by time or meaning or reality, a day that is not today. When he marries, he knows he will be expected to produce an heir. The thought causes his mind to blank, erasing every other thought he has.

The fact that becoming intimate with anyone terrifies him is not something Arthur fully understands. He gets along well with his father and Morgana, but they are family to him. Sometimes Uther is less like a father and more like a tyrannical mentor, sometimes Morgana is less like a sister and more like a flirtatious opponent. Still. They are his definitions of family, as imperfect as any other but with the extra problems only royalty can have.

Intimate is not the word he would use to describe his relationship with either of them. He is not sure a word exists that would accurately describe the push and pull of power, requests for favors, and hidden affection that goes along with them. If there is such a word, it certainly isn't intimacy, or love, and most likely not even family.

So there is no one to turn to with his concerns, and these concerns are overwhelming enough that he can only ignore them. The discovery of his own attractiveness simply allows Arthur to get more of what he wants, faster. What he doesn't want, he doesn't get, and so he never uses his face and body to the potential he knows he can.

 

29.

Everyone misconstrued what really happened. Arthur had not, as Morgana had pointed out much to her own amusement, gone on a daring rescue mission to save his knight in shining armor. He had gone to a cave to get a flower. It wasn't really that big a deal.

He didn't see why people had to constantly fuss about it. He didn't see why Merlin had to keep _looking_ at him like that.

 

41.

Arthur had defied his father plenty of times. So many, in fact, that following Merlin to his village didn't particularly stand out in any way. It was just another in a long string of decisions Arthur had made which went against his father's wishes. And, why bother denying it, Arthur knew he earned more respect from the commoners—and even from his father, though he'd never admit it—by defying the rules than he would have if he had stayed in his bedroom whining about how unfair everything was. Defiance was part of being king, just as equally as compliance and justice were.

Yet Arthur had been defying his father more and more since Merlin had shown up, and although everyone else assumed this was because he was growing up and into his future role, Arthur knew it was because Merlin made him want to be king more than anyone else ever had. He wanted to prove himself, to show Merlin that he was better than everyone said, and he wanted Merlin to force him to do it. Every time Merlin put himself out there for someone, whether it was helping Morgana hide the druid child or lying about Lancelot's commoner status, Arthur knew Merlin had a different kind of power. Merlin was kind, generous, and people liked him immediately and without hesitation. Yet Merlin was also able to hold his own in dangerous situations, somehow, and Arthur wanted that for himself. He wanted Merlin to hold his own against Arthur, constantly. Merlin was, perhaps, the only person who could do so, who was willing to try.

So, perhaps more to encourage Merlin than to become a good king, Arthur defied his father. He reaped more benefits than he could have imagined from this. When he was lying next to Merlin for the first time, Merlin's feet next to his head, all Arthur could think was that lying next to someone was different than he had thought it would be. He could feel Merlin's body touching his, lightly, through their clothes, all along his right side. He didn't think it was intentional, but Merlin kept on pushing against him. He was a restless sleeper, which was completely not a surprise in any way, and so his arm wound up over Arthur's knee and then covering his feet and then spread over his thigh. His legs kicked Arthur in the chin twice, in the eye once, and ended up splayed against his chest and side.

What was odd about this wasn't that Merlin slept like an uncultured child, but rather that, even with all of the annoying movements, Arthur felt more comfortable and safe than he ever had before. When he was in Camelot, he always had to be Prince Arthur, future king. When he was in Camelot, Merlin was his servant and there were boundaries there that shouldn't be crossed. Out here, away from the castle and all the watchful citizens he would protect with his life, Arthur could be whoever he wanted to be. Of course, in front of everyone else, he was still Prince Arthur and acted accordingly. But at night, when it was just the two of them, Arthur found himself asking questions about Merlin's childhood and shoving his foot into Merlin's face and feeling as though he was always meant to have Merlin at his side.

Merlin was the only person who had ever touched Arthur this way. He was the only person who had ever been close enough to have the opportunity.

 

37.

Some people were born to be kings, and Arthur was not one of those men. Arthur had to train every day to become king. The gracious nature of the court and diplomatic processes did not come easily to him. Arthur preferred hunting, swordplay, and jumping into situations without considering the consequences. He had the power to do as he pleased, and he did, but not as often as he would have liked to. The power he held came with too many obligations and restrictions to enjoy it. If Arthur made a mistake, wars could be started.

He never made mistakes.

 

23.

If Arthur had known all it would take to have Merlin around him constantly was getting a knife thrown at him by a shape-shifting hag sorceress, he would have... well. He would have seen if there was an easier way.

 

46.

Yes, Arthur had drunk the wine, and yes, he had meant what he said. He never listened to Merlin. That was a fact. But he also imagined what it would be like to listen to him, to have Merlin tell him to do something—probably without expecting any results, like "stop moving around so much" or "could you _try_ not to get so dirty during training?"—and for Arthur to actually follow his request.

That was what it would be with Merlin. A request. No matter how hard he tried, Arthur couldn't imagine Merlin ordering anyone to do anything, regardless of how small a task it was. Even the tone of his voice was pleading, already resigned to disappointment but determined to make an effort anyway. The idea of Merlin talking in a commanding tone, or doing any action at all with force and not haphazard clumsiness, was ludicrously unbelievable.

And ridiculously hot.

 

58.

When Merlin told him _I need to talk to you_ , Arthur replied the only way he knew how, the way he always had. He had control of the situation, no matter how much he wanted Merlin to take it away from him. Then Merlin said _not today_ and Arthur could only remind Merlin of what he was getting into, of who he was pushing. Because, no matter how much Arthur wanted Merlin to stand up to him, he also wanted Merlin to know exactly what he was doing. He didn't want it to be an accident. He didn't want Merlin to unintentionally rip away the barriers that had kept Arthur separate and protected for so long. If Merlin was going to do it, Arthur wanted him to know.

Then Merlin kept talking, insulting him with a kind smile, lightly mocking in a way that no one had ever dared to try. Arthur was shocked, first, but immediately the shock melted away, leaving whole-hearted pleasure. This was the man Arthur trusted with his life. This was the only person who had ever dared to create a friendship, and possibly something more, with him. He wasn't going to punish Merlin for finally standing up and giving Arthur what he'd wanted for years.

_No, you'd get bored_. Arthur somehow managed to continue talking, but he couldn't look Merlin in the eye. It didn't matter that Arthur wanted this, he simply wasn't used to it. He didn't know what his expression would be. He didn't want Merlin to see him when he wasn't sure what would be visible.

The Merlin told him something so ridiculous it had to be true, and Arthur didn't know what to make of it. _I'm happy to be your servant. Until the day I die._ It had him pausing, looking up at Merlin even though he knew his face would be too open. He didn't know what to say to that. There was nothing that could even come close to a fair response. Arthur didn't want Merlin to be his servant until he died—he wanted more than that. He wanted Merlin to be comfortable around him, to know he was valued, and to know it without being told. He wanted Merlin to always feel free to speak to him in whatever way he wished. He wanted his own power stripped away when they were together, and he wanted Merlin to take it and have it, for a little while.

But he couldn't say any of that, and so instead he commented on how hard Merlin was to pin down. He was elusive and constantly changing from one thing to another, and though Arthur knew him it was still impossible to know every aspect of him. Arthur had never thought Merlin would say what he was saying, which showed just how much of Merlin was still a mystery to him.

Then Merlin was complimenting him, and admonishing him, and all Arthur could think was that this was how equals acted. Being honest and trusting and openly displaying emotions—that was how someone acted towards a person who was close to them, who was irreplaceable. Arthur didn't know what had brought this on. Maybe Merlin was glad about his recovery from near-death. Maybe Merlin was simply tired of pretending. But Arthur knew he needed to memorize each and every moment of this while he could. He had no guarantees Merlin would be this open in the future. He had to remember it.

_Just… don't be a prat._ Arthur could see there was more that Merlin wanted to say. His expression made that clear. But Arthur didn't want to push him. Before he could even think of a reply, Merlin was leaving. Without asking for Arthur's permission or even stating his intention to leave, Merlin used the power he had unintentionally been exercising this entire conversation to end it when he wanted to. The door closed behind him quietly, politely, but he was gone all the same.

When Arthur finally thought up a response, a few minutes later, it didn't matter. There was no need to say it because there was no one there to hear it.

 

54.

People say he's happier now. They like him more. Arthur couldn't care less.

 

1.

The first time, the woman doesn't even realize what she's doing. Her back is turned and she's looking towards the shack she calls home, holding a small basket full of clean clothing. A light voice calls out to bring around the wheelbarrow. Arthur finds himself complying before he can think otherwise. Even at five years old, the guards with him have no control over his actions, and when the woman turns around to thank whoever she was expecting to see, her eyes widen and she hastily drops the basket, spilling clothes all over the muddy ground, dropping next to the basket in apology.

He is still too young to understand her need for absolution, but the guards chuckle amongst themselves and wave away her horrified stammering. Later, Uther tells him it is inappropriate for him to submit to any requests, especially those of the lower classes. He is to be king, and that means he bows to no one.

When he thinks of bowing, he thinks of the woman's face—pupils dilated, mouth trembling—and clothes spread out on the ground, dark splotches soaking into them, turning the whites mottled brown and the colors dull shades of gray.

 

62.

Merlin was getting more confident, taking more chances and speaking his mind more than he had before. Arthur was allowing it, secretly enjoying it, and complained only because it was expected of him. One day, he knew they would be able to speak as equals. One day, he knew they would rule together, Arthur as king with Merlin as an advisor. And one day, he hoped Merlin would take the next step in their relationship. He wanted it to be Merlin who initiated things. He didn't want it to seem as though he was ordering Merlin. He didn't want his power to be involved in his relationship with Merlin at all.

So he waited for Merlin to take that last bit of control from him, and while he waited, they bickered and disregarded rules and imagined a Camelot they would like to call home. It was enough.

 

_fin._


End file.
